Effective on February 1 of this year, on my 78th birthday, I have moved to what is called
a non-active status as a deacon. As a result of this, I have now moved from St.
Stephen’s Church in Halifax back to my Dartmouth home church at St. Vincent de Paul.
Since this is a major change for me, I thought that I would like to share a little bit about
Diaconate, touching ever so briefly on my own journey during the last 41 years. Just as
we often read at the bottom of many personal columns in our newspapers and
magazines, the opinions and views expressed here are my own, and are not necessarily
shared by others. Nor need they be.
As you all know, the
scripture reference for deacons in the early church can be found in the book of
Acts written by Luke. The early
Christian church that grew after Jesus’ resurrection was a shared community. It was a community that looked after the
welfare of it’s growing membership. And
some of these members were widows and orphans. So naturally, widows and orphans
who had no visible means of support had to be cared for. And since the community was very small at this
early stage of development, problems arose then as they often do today. When some of the Hellenists widows, the Greek
Jewish Christians, complained that they were being neglected in the food
distribution, the apostles gathered to discuss what to do about it.
And they decided to
select people from their community, people of solid faith, to deal with this
problem. These people were called
deacons. Being a deacon wasn’t a glamorous position, one that would catch a lot
of public attention, but a position of service, principally in the area or
social justice. The apostles selected seven
men who would oversee the needs of widows in their community, one of them, as
you know, was Steven. Now Steven did not
get his notoriety from serving widows.
His difficulties arose when he started to preach. And obviously, a deacon preaching with exuberance
caught the attention of those who opposed this new faith, one being, as you
know, was Saul and later to be called Paul.
So Steven, through his preaching, became the first Christian martyr,
stoned to death with Saul’s blessing. Perhaps
this is a lesson to anyone wishing to pursue being a deacon…if you stick to the
service of widows, you will keep out of trouble. Start preaching, and you will never know what
trouble you may get in. But the primary role of the deacon was one of charity,
particularly to the marginalized. Our
current Bishop Brian Dunn describes the deacon’s role as that of the Word,
Liturgy and charity, but principally charity or social justice.
Our church history
records Permanent Deacons being around for the first 1000 years or so playing a
vital service role, and then changes were put in place which changed it from a
permanent ministry to a transitional one, a step on the way of becoming a
priest.
Then again, after
Vatican 11 in the late nineteen sixties, under Pope John XX111, the permanent diaconate was once again
restored. Our Bishop at that time, James
Hayes ordained the first deacon, George Tucker, in the Archdiocese of Halifax, in
the early seventies.
When I entered the
formation program in 1978, there were five ordained deacons in place, all but
one have since passed away: Jim McClevey is still with us but retired for many
years. Also, when I entered the program
in 1978, there were twelve others in formation.
Most have also passed away. I believe two are still with us but retired: Dave Shortt and Bernie Coffin. Many others have, of course, entered
formation since that time and are serving as deacons in the Archdiocese.
When I entered the program, most of the deacons and candidates entered for two
main reasons. The church after Vatican
11 was going through a strong period of renewal, very different from now. After Vatican 11, the Charismatic Renewal,
Cursillo movement, Marriage Encounter, Engaged Encounter, New Beginnings, Days
of Enrichment flourished and the church became a new and exciting place to
be. Many began diaconate formation as a
result of the influence of these renewal movements on their lives. This certain
was my case as well. Others came as a
response to a previous calling to the priesthood that, for whatever reason, did
not work out. Diaconate became an
opportunity for them to give expression to that previous call.
Over the past 41
years, I have seen an evolution of changes happening with the diaconate. When I entered the program, most of the
candidates were younger in years. Many,
like myself, had young children, and so, in many ways, the children became a
part of the formation or at least being factored into the formation
process. The monthly masses we had at
our homes during formation included the children. The special feast day gatherings were filled
with young children running around, doing what children do. Families interacted
with each other, and permanent family connections were established. Part of formation enquiry included asking your
children what they thought about their dad becoming a deacon. It was a family
affair.
Also, back then,
there was an underlying view that being ordained a deacon would be a movement
towards a full-time ministry with the Archdiocese. One of the early deacons was
told to quit his job after being ordained on the presumption of beginning a new
ministry career which did not come about immediately. Needless to say, this caused
considerable financial concern until it was finally dealt with. Most of us in formation were prepared for this
change, although later, it was shown to be more the exception than the
rule. Now I don’t believe this is even a
factor of consideration.
Also, in those early
years, the role of the deacon was not as clearly defined as it is now.
In many cases, I
don’t think the priest really knew what to do with us. So we were more often asked
to take on the tasks that the pastor saw were lacking or absent in parish
life. A change in pastor at your church
often meant a change in the Deacon’s role.
So you never were too sure as to what you might be doing if you changed
churches or the church changed pastors. Today, much more stress is placed on
the newly ordained deacon to discern or discover his ministry, with an emphasis
towards social justice issues.
During my years of
formation and early diaconate ministry, I often chuckled at the comments made
by some that being ordained a deacon was an elevation from a lay status to the
ordained. I suppose in some sense, that
may seem to be true, but I rarely saw my particular choice to become a deacon
in terms of an elevation. It was
definitely a choice, but I would describe it more as a path.
After experiencing
Jesus in a very deep in personal way in my late twenties, I had to make a
choice as to how I was to begin to live out this new-found faith that was
suddenly very real to me. My exploration and research that followed at that
time led to pursuing diaconate formation.
I was already somewhat involved in church; as a catechism teacher, part
of a men’s group and a prayer group. I
knew a couple of deacons, and one or two in formation, so it became a possible
path to follow. The main obstacle that I
saw was my family situation.
Mary Anne and I lived
fairly quiet lives, she a stay-at-home mom, I worked with the Federal
Government, and we also had three young children, the oldest not yet 10 and the
youngest 7. Was this the right path for
me to take? The time I knew this was a right path for us was when Mary Anne,
after a short time of prayer, agreed wholeheartedly to it. It was then that I also realized that it
wasn’t just my path. It was a path for the whole family as they were willing to
embrace the changes that we would have to make. During my four years of formation and the last
41 years as a deacon that followed, I don’t believe I ever saw it as being
different from that. I was involved in
my own kids’ catechism classes. I worked at their confirmation retreats. Two of
the boys were altar servers where I served at mass; the other played his guitar
in the youth choir. Mary Anne was almost as much a part of the formation process
as I was myself. And there wasn’t to many
of my involvements at church; baptismal preparation, marriage preparation,
cursillo, retreats, conferences, you name it, that she wasn’t a part of in some
way. So it was a path that we both shared,
and for us it would not have worked in any other way.
But we all have a
path. You have taken your own particular
path with your own family and life. And
the path that you have taken has led you to where you are now, and it
continues.
And your path,
particularly as it relates to matters of faith and service has been and
continues to be just as critical to the life of the church as the path that
someone else may have taken. In the four
or five churches that I’ve been a part of during the last 45 years, there has
not been one where I did not see people, and many of them, who held that
community together through their shared faith and service, and who often humbled
me in the work they did; their outreach to others, their ability to share their
gifts in ways that I personally found difficult and often impossible to
imitate.
We all have our
path. Diaconate was a path that my
family took in living our faith, to grow, as Matthew Kelly often says, towards being
the best version of ourselves, with its ups and downs, failures and correction,
often times of clinging to things too tightly, and times of letting go. The same is true for each and every one of
you
I am very peaceful
with retiring from what is called ‘active service’ as a deacon. I’m not quite sure what that will look like,
but I see it as only another part of the path that we will continue to follow
as best we can.
I would like to end with a favorite line found often in our church prayer which sums up the essence of this journey: “Your word, of Lord, is a guide for my steps, and a light for my path.”
